


The Measure of a Leader

by CynicSun92



Series: Behind The Mask - One-Shots and Short Stories [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Action/Adventure, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 18:38:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7543594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicSun92/pseuds/CynicSun92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Minutemen have successfully retaken the Castle, which gives cause for celebration among those who participated in this feat. As everyone else takes a break in the courtyard, Aveline finds herself wondering on who should assume leadership. Preston offers a suggestion that she cannot accept and in turn, she gives a few pointers on what she believes are the qualities that should define the new General.</p>
<p>(Part of a collection of one-shots and short stories that take place before and during the events of my main story. Mostly meant to fill in what I see as plot-holes and empty spaces within it, along with additional ideas that I may not have been able to incorporate into the story initially. May or may not be in chronological order. Expect some divergence from canon. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Measure of a Leader

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! To anyone and everyone who has been reading and following ‘Behind The Mask’, this is where I plan on dumping some one-shots and short stories that tie in with the main story. For those who have not read ‘Behind The Mask’, I would suggest you do so, as to avoid confusion with some of the stuff I post here.

In the harsh wasteland of the Commonwealth, one would believe that there were very few reasons to throw a party. In a place where every day was a battle for survival, there was just no cause or reason to celebrate and create a ruckus that would attract unwanted attention from every corner.

Nighttime began to settle upon the Commonwealth and while it was usually rather quiet save for the distant gunfire exchanged between rival raider groups and the dragging footsteps of whatever creepy crawlies were lurking as they searched for prey, anyone who was in the vicinity of South Boston could hear the distant sound of music being played, along with hearty laughter.

Aveline Strauss, who was known to many as either the Woman Out Of Time or the Sole Survivor of Vault 111, leaned over the railing at the top of one the staircases of Fort Independence, better known to the locals as ‘The Castle’, watching the scene unfold before her with a relaxed grin on her face.

She took a small sip of the cheap beer in her hand as she watched the large group of Minutemen that had made themselves present engage in celebration. A few of them sat around a bonfire they had started below her, chatting away with each other. Another was playing a banjo as she counted around six militiamen dancing around with silly smiles on their faces. Two others were busy with the cooking spit over the bonfire, turning the handle to ensure that the rising flames licked and roasted the meal they were preparing for their little victory banquet.

Piper and MacCready were amongst those sitting around the fire as well, having been brought along by Aveline. The vault dweller noticed the plucky and outspoken reporter drawing doodles on her notepad, while the loudmouth and slightly cynical mercenary was already helping himself to the booze that was just brought in by the recent arrival of another Minuteman squad.

It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago, some of those present had been in the fight of their lives.

Because if there was one thing that Aveline learned quickly after getting out of the vault, it was that the wasteland was always full of surprises, plenty of them unpleasant. She should have expected that things were going a bit too easy for her liking.

The team that had been assembled to take back the fort consisted of herself, Preston, Piper (who was eager to collect notes on what she considered her next big story), MacCready (“Boss, you promised me loot and cigarettes! Where are they?!”), five Minutemen soldiers who had volunteered for this mission and a few more held back as reserves. Paladin Danse had also approached Aveline before she left Cambridge, offering his assistance in order to make sure that ‘such a foolhardy operation goes more smoothly.’

She wasn’t sure how the Paladin had found out about her willing cooperation to aid Preston in retaking the Castle, but she declined his offer. As expected, it earned her a slight reprimand but the soldier reluctantly agreed to let her go under the condition that she keep her emergency radio at the ready to call in backup if things got too dicey.

As tempting and perhaps logical as it was to call in additional support, Aveline did not intend to make use of the radio. The Minutemen needed to achieve this victory on their own. If their revival was to be taken seriously by friend and foe alike, then they needed to retake what was once their greatest stronghold by themselves and without holding anyone’s hand, especially not the Brotherhood’s.

Despite Danse’s zealous beliefs, Aveline knew he meant well and was only dictating perhaps the closest thing to common sense, but knowing how Brotherhood troops looked down on anyone who wasn’t part of them, she knew that they would not provide support for a ragtag ‘farmer’ militia without some hefty compensation promised in return.

Initially things were going according to plan. Aveline’s idea was to use herself and Piper as bait to lure out the mirelurks from the broken walls and bring them within firing distance of the rest of the group. Over a dozen mirelurks fell that way, with Aveline taking out a few of her own with her recently acquired Combat Shotgun, as Piper covered her.

They had made it into the courtyard, where they had to deal with nests of Mirelurk eggs. The hatchlings proved to be more annoying compared to their grown up counterparts but they were easy to put down, and a few Molotov cocktails took care of the remaining nests.

At first instance, Aveline couldn’t believe that the Minutemen of old were chased out of this fortress by such a paltry group of wasteland critters. But for all of MacCready’s jokes about things being too easy or the place being way too quiet wherever they had traveled, it ended up being true in this instance.

As soon as the last nest on the upper walls was eliminated, a loud, inhuman screech was heard that had the vault dweller and some others cover their ears from the splitting noise. And when she looked in the direction where it came from, Aveline’s jaw dropped in shock as she saw a behemoth sized Mirelurk rise from the lake next to the Castle, no doubt enraged at the slaughter of her offspring.

Everyone had scrambled for cover as the creature crawled towards the fort, swinging its claws at anyone who might have been to close and spitting acid at those who fired from a distance. At one point during the fighting, the vault dweller had not noticed a large glob of acid spit sent her way after helping a wounded Minuteman and would have nearly been completely engulfed by the toxic fluid if it wasn’t for Piper who pulled her away and into the Castle at the last second. Even so, some of it landed on her arm, causing her to shriek in pain as the acid burned through the sleeve of her jumpsuit and away at her skin.

Piper tended to her friend’s wounds as the others continued to fight the monster, with little progress. The tide had turned when Preston and a Minutemen soldier emerged on the upper walls of the Castle, carrying between them a missile launcher and two rockets they had found in a room that looked like an office of sorts. The minuteman loaded the missile into the launcher as Preston heaved the weapon onto his shoulder and after quickly steadying himself, aimed and fired at the creature.

The blast hit it with enough force to cause it to stagger, bits of its shell having been blown off. MacCready and the rest of the group fired on it from various directions, keeping the Mirelurk Queen distracted as Preston reloaded and fired the second shot after waiting for it to turn around in his direction. The shot hit it square in what was probably its face and while it was not enough to outright kill it, it was enough to leave it weakened and disoriented, allowing everyone to empty everything they had into it until the creature gave one final screech of pain before crumpling lifelessly to the ground.

By that time, Aveline had managed to regain her composure, shaking off her near-death experience as she took in the sight before. Piper had treated her with a stimpack and a dose of Med-X, numbing the pain and preventing the flesh of her arm from being corroded any further. The wound looked more like a burn scar and while it would take some time, it was a wound that would eventually heal in the weeks to come.

And her bouts of horror and worry were washed away with relief when she heard that they had not lost anyone in the fighting; only three wounded, which included herself. By wasteland standards, that was a fucking miracle right there, the kind of result that had a one in a million chance of happening in a place as harsh, chaotic, and unforgiving as the Commonwealth wasteland. She believed it as a sign of good things to come for the Minutemen. It had to be. And the best part was that they did not need anyone else’s help to succeed here.

As some of the Minutemen began carving up the Mirelurks and its Queen for food, Aveline and the others began to work on cleaning up all the vegetation that had gathered along the walls, along with bringing the radio tower back into operation.

Within that time, two more Minuteman squads arrived at the Castle, a four man patrol team that Preston held back as a reserve unit and later a larger group arrived, this one consisting of about six militiamen and four settlers that intended to join in as workers who would be responsible with working together with the citizen soldiers in getting the Castle into top shape like in its glory days.

“Hanging in there, Aveline?”

The blonde woman turned to find Preston approach her, carrying a beer bottle of his own as he positioned himself next to Aveline, imitating his friend and sister-in-arms by leaning against the railing.

“Yeah…I feel a little better. The acid hurt like hell, though,” she said, flexing her bandaged arm a little.

“I’m just glad Piper had you covered,” Preston said, “Had that not been the case, that toxic blast would have melted skin and muscle right off your bone,” he paused for a moment and shuddered, “There would have been nothing left of you to find.”

_‘Well, this turned grim really quick,’_ Aveline thought with a slight frown.

Preston must have noticed and quickly spoke up.

“Sorry about that, Miss Strauss,” he politely apologized with a sheepish smile, “Everyone’s in a good mood and I’m just dwelling on what-ifs. This was a major victory for us. Who knows? Perhaps the first of many to come.”

“That’s better, my friend,” she nodded with a small smile, bringing up her bottle in front of her. Preston took the hint and lightly touched the bottle with his own, a small ‘clang’ noise coming from the contact.

_“Un brindis para el comienzo de un futuro mejor!”_ she said and when she noticed the puzzled look on her friend’s face, she explained, “Sorry, I keep forgetting that Spanish and other foreign languages might have been lost to the ages by now,” she took another sip of her beer, “I technically said ‘A toast for the start of a better future’.”

“I can toast to that,” Preston smiled and downed some of his drink, “But this only the beginning. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us. But…at least there’s hope,” he said as they both watched one of their men start to pull out the roasted steaks from the cooking spit, inviting some of the others to feast upon the spoils of the battle, “We’re slowly growing and gathering resources. And now, we have a proper headquarters. However…”

“The Minutemen have no official command structure,” Aveline finished for him, “And to have that, we need a leader.”

She turned on her heel and walked a few steps to the other side, the ruined city of Boston coming into view from this side. She wondered who would be able to take command of the revived organization.

Ever since Preston pitched to her the idea of bringing the Minutemen back, she couldn’t bring herself to turn him down. She believed that the organization of citizen soldiers could do some good for the wasteland if they learned not to repeat the mistakes of their predecessors. But they’ve been running on autopilot up until the moment they managed to gather a few settlements and built a decent sized force to go with it. From there, they still had no leader but the responsibility was shared between her and Preston, along with the added input from some of the community leaders.

But now that they have a headquarters to boot, they would need to find someone to lead them.

In her eyes, giving Preston the reins of leadership was the most logical choice. The revival of the Minutemen, making them mean something to the people once again was his hope. He had been with them for over six years and he knew how they operated or at the very least, how they should operate.

“It’s a nice view, isn’t it?” Aveline heard Preston ask her as he approached and stood by her side.

“Yeah…it is,” she said softly. She didn’t need to look at Preston to feel the gears working in his head. The blonde wondered if he was thinking the same as her. The silence between them had become palpable and eventually, it was Preston who spoke up.

“Aveline, it’s been almost three months since we ended up sticking together. You already know pretty much everything there is to know about me. When I joined, the years leading up to the Quincy Massacre…the fact that I almost gave up on everything.” He sighed sadly.

“I’ll be honest, it’s hard to believe we’ve come this far, but we’ve done it. Now, I guess we can’t put it off for any longer. We are going to have to choose a new General.”

Aveline couldn’t help but snort at that bit of information. The leader of the Minutemen being known as a ‘General’. Still, in her opinion, it was leagues better than calling some twenty year old an ‘Elder’.

“Sorry. It’s just…I don’t know. I found it a little funny. I mean that’s one hell of a promotion right there,” she said.

“It probably is,” Preston replied, “But the Minuteman leader has always carried the rank of General.”

Aveline took one final swig of her drink.

“And I think it would be an honor for all of us to have you as our General.”

She spit out the beer as her eyes widened at what she just heard. Preston? Making her General? No, she couldn’t have heard that right.

“You’re kidding, right?” she said as she turned to look at her friend with an incredulous look on her face. When she saw the earnest look on Preston’s face, she realized he was not joking, “Oh dear lord, you’re not kidding.”

“I don’t see why I would be joking about something like this,” he responded calmly, “I mean, why wouldn’t you be a good choice? You saved us at Concord. You didn’t have to. There was nothing in it for you but instead of sneaking away from the place, you risked your life to help us.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Aveline answered back, “It was the right thing to do!”

Preston did not hold back a chuckle upon hearing that.

“All the more reason to have you as our leader. You did notice that the people who are willing to do the ‘right’ thing out here in the wastes without expecting reward can be counted on one hand and still have fingers left over, have you?” he responded.

“But what about you? You have more knowledge and experience with the Minutemen than I do. This was your goal, Preston. In a manner of speaking, this was your dream!”

“I know, Aveline…It’s just that, I…I can’t,” he said, shaking his head with a sorrowful expression on his face, “I…can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” Aveline questioned. From her experience as a lawyer, she had learned to keep an eye on other people’s body language. She believed that Preston was the better choice for his experience, but it didn’t take her long to put two and two together and realize that the events that started in Quincy and ended at Concord delivered a huge blow to her friend’s confidence in his own capabilities as well as his self-esteem.

“I’m not the kind of leader anyone would want,” he said, not fully answering Aveline’s question, “When things took a turn for the worst at Quincy, I gathered whoever I could and ran from the battle.”

“You made the wisest choice in that moment,” Aveline attempted to assure him, “You were all hopelessly outgunned and outnumbered. Your lives would have been thrown away for nothing had you stayed.”

“But it happened anyway,” Preston glumly retorted, “I led a group of over twenty people and promised them that I would find a place where we could settle and rebuild. Instead, I ended up leading them into raider ambushes, the ghouls at Lexington and then Concord, where we ended up boxed in by more raiders and only a fraction of us left.”

He looked up to make eye contact with Aveline. There were no tears in his eyes but they still had a very weary, self-deprecating look about them.

“I can’t do this, Aveline. The Minutemen have a good thing going for them right now and putting me in charge is only going to ruin that. I won’t lead these men and women to their deaths.”

“And you think I could do better?” the woman asked, a frustrated expression on her face, “Preston, before I was thrown into this world, I was just a lawyer and a housewife. Sure, I knew how to handle a gun way back then, but what you’re asking of me? To assume leadership of a militia of settlers, along with all the communities scattered across the Commonwealth? I know jack shit about leading an army…pardon my language,” she added sheepishly upon seeing his eyes widen, making sure he understood she wasn’t lashing out at him or anything.

“You have more knowledge and experience with the Minutemen, more than me at least,” she continued, “All I can do is be diplomatic, charm others into doing what I need them to do at times, and make a good case for those that need convincing…”

Her voice trailed off for a moment as she pondered her words and suddenly, it seemed like the proverbial light bulb appeared above her head.

_‘Charm others…Make a good case for those that need convincing…’_

She took a deep breath to calm herself and hoped that whatever she was going to say next would help Preston out of his shell and assume the role that was rightfully his.

“Preston, I know things have been rough for you and that you think you are not the leader the Minutemen need, but if you need proof that you’re the better choice than me,” she waved her hand around gesturing around the Castle, “Just look at the fighting that took place here. Sure, I came up with the plan to help you retake this place, but I ended up being useless against the Mirelurk Queen and it nearly cost me my life.”

Preston remained silent, making no hint or movement of protest and Aveline took this as a good sign. He was listening and considering her words, so she continued.

“On the other hand, it was you who managed to give everyone the opening they needed to take down that creature. It was you who gave them a fighting chance. That’s the kind of leader the Minutemen need. One who can inspire them to fight and hope for a better tomorrow.”

“I just got lucky,” Preston said lamely, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck. He felt conflicted at this turn of events. Aveline was right in some ways and he couldn’t help but wonder why was it so difficult for him to accept that. He had led men and women in the years before. He may not have been ambitious enough to desire the spot of General, but he did take his time to learn some of the basics that would one day help him become a good leader. He already had his own squad and was due a promotion before shit started to truly hit the fan…

But…everything that happened between Quincy, Lexington and Concord kept haunting him, reminding him that he had no place as a leader. That everything they have worked for so far would fall to ruin if he took charge.

“If I hadn’t found that missile launcher in the General’s office, then there would not have been much we could do…I would have failed everyone present here,” he said softly, hoping that Aveline would just hurry and take the role that technically should be his.

“But you didn’t,” Aveline sharply replied to ground him back to the present, her voice slowly rising in volume as she paced around, “It’s because of you that we won this day.”

Preston opened his mouth to respond but fell silent as Aveline raised a hand, signaling that she wasn’t done speaking yet.

“I know you told me already that you were on the brink of giving up. On just saying ‘Fuck it’ and hoping that the next bullet fired at you would actually hit it’s mark. But you didn’t give up,” she said, with enough confidence and fire in her eyes that he couldn’t help but listen attentively and take her word as law, “You didn’t give up because there were still people with you that you hoped to save. And despite the circumstance in which that ended, you are still alive and you held onto the promise you made to them.”

“Preston,” she continued, “You can blame yourself all you want for those who have lost their lives on your watch as you led them away from Quincy. But they followed you because they believed in you, and had they lived and been given the opportunity to start anew, I’m certain they would have gladly bled and given their lives to bring about this second chance the Minutemen have been awarded.”

“You, my dear friend, are the embodiment of the Minutemen’s fighting spirit. Of what should be their fighting spirit…because even as the world crumbled around you, you stayed true to your beliefs. Even as those you had once looked up to and fought alongside with turned their backs on the organization they thought lost, you held on, believing in your heart that the Minutemen could perhaps be saved and start anew. And despite the despair that threatened to rip apart your will to live…You. Still. Fought,” she said, jabbing a finger at his chest to punctuate the last three words.

Preston looked up to her in disbelief, like he couldn’t possibly believe that after everything he had told her, of his misfortunes and his failures, this woman was still willing to put her trust in him.

“And if you are honestly still in doubt,” Aveline said as a smirk spread on her lips, “Then maybe you should ask what they think.”

Preston’s gaze followed where Aveline pointed, to the crowd that had assembled below them, by the staircase where they stood. He looked down and met with more than a dozen gazes staring back at him. Some of them had hopeful expressions, while others had been moved to tears by the woman’s speech to him. Piper had reached up to wipe away a tear and looked towards MacCready, and despite his nonchalant posture, she noticed his eyes were slightly glistening as well.

“Oh my god,” she said, grabbing his attention, “Are you crying?”

“I’m not crying! You’re crying!” he spoke with comical haste as he huffed and looked away from the reporter, who couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction.

“Minutemen! Will you accept Preston Garvey as your new General?!” Aveline asked, loud enough for everyone in the crowd to hear her. Her question was answered with a chorus of rowdy cheers.

“Will you fight alongside him against any and all threats that would seek to harm the fragile order of the wasteland?!” More cheers gave the duo their answer and Preston couldn’t help but stare in awe as this woman, his friend and savior, wrapped the crowd around her finger to put their trust in him.

…No, that wasn’t it. They had trusted him all along, as much as they trusted her.

“Will you uphold the motto of the Minutemen, to protect the people at a minute’s notice?! To protect the citizens who seek to live and trade honestly, be they human or ghoul?!” She would have added ‘free synth’ as well, but even some of the Minutemen and local settlers would have found that worrisome. So Aveline opted for baby steps. Perhaps there would come a time where the people of the Commonwealth would not fear synths, at least the ones that ran from the Institute and just wanted to mind their own business.

The crowd’s answer was the same as the previous one.

She looked at Preston with a huge grin on her face.

“I think I rest my case.”

Preston looked on to the crowd and they eventually settled down, waiting to see if the new General had anything to say. He supposed he would have to try, keep it short and sweet as to not make a fool of himself.

“We’re celebrating today the first steps of the Minutemen’s revival,” he began, “and this is only the beginning. There’s a lot of work ahead of us, but if we continue to give it our all, if we faithfully carry our mission to protect the citizens of the Commonwealth at a minute’s notice, then I promise you there will be more victories and celebrations in the months and years to come!”

“For the Minutemen and the Commonwealth!” Preston and Aveline shouted in unison, raising their guns high into the air.

The raucous cheering was deafening and it was difficult to believe that for just a moment out here in the wasteland, there was a reason to be in such good spirits. The crowd raised their guns into the air as well and some even threw their hats, getting a chuckle out of Preston.

“Thanks, Aveline,” he said with a genuine smile the likes he hadn’t been able to show in a long time, “You made a lot of good points and while…I still have my doubts, I guess I’ll eventually grow into this role. I mean, if you and everyone else put their trust in me, then-”

“Shh! Enough rambling, Preston,” Aveline playfully chided, “Just enjoy yourself today. We can worry about all the details tomorrow!”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just…”

“I’m not going anywhere if that’s what you’re thinking,” she assured him, “Now that you’re the big boss of the Minutemen, you’re gonna need someone to advise you and do an awful lot of talking, so this charming prewar lawyer gladly offers her services,” she concluded and took a bow which had Preston roll his eyes.

“What about the Brotherhood?” he asked, “I don’t think they will take kindly to you prioritizing other goals and responsibilities that doesn’t benefit them.”

“Yeah…” her smile fell into a more neutral expression, “I’ve been thinking about what I plan to do from here on out. I mean they have the resources that I would probably need and I’ve met a few good people among them. Some of their goals in theory are actually pretty understandable, but their methods, the other half of their goals and their leadership have honestly failed to convince me that they’re the right way to go.”

“On the other hand…” Aveline perked up and she smiled brightly once again, “I’m a lot happier hanging around and helping you guys out.” She leaned over the railing and called out to MacCready, “Hey MacCready! Stop hogging all the beer and bring one over to me and the General! Your master demands it!”

“I’m a mercenary, not your damn butler!” he shot back before obediently taking two beers and handing them over to Aveline and Preston, who had made their way down into the courtyard to mingle with the crowd.

“Thank you, MacCready,” she said as she patted him on the head, “Master is pleased.”

“Sure, whatever,” the mercenary grumbled as he went back to hoard all the ice cold beer he could find.

The celebration lasted the entire night and would have probably kept on going into the following day had they not remembered that newer and more demanding responsibilities awaited them. But with this stroke of good luck and the naming of their new General, the Minutemen now found themselves in the highest spirits since the Minutemen of old emerged victorious in the Battle of Diamond City more than a hundred years ago. And they would push on ahead to bring hope to a wasteland that was in danger of losing it.

**Author's Note:**

> So I decided to play around a bit with naming the new General of the Minutemen because I felt it should have been a more momentous occasion. But instead, it’s thrown at you like a random job offer in the first hour of the game instead of being treated like a big decision, a decision that, should you accept, has you assuming the reins of a weakened organization with the unenviable task of bringing the Minutemen together and building them into a force that could perhaps rival the Institute and the Brotherhood of Steel.
> 
> And I’m not a big fan of the offer of General being handed to you after helping your first settlement. I just felt it didn’t make much sense, no matter how desperate Preston may have been. To me personally, the best moment to choose the new General should have been after retaking the Castle, as it would have felt like a proper rite of passage.
> 
> Also, Aveline’s knowledge of Spanish, mostly stems from her mother’s side. It’s something I have not yet added into the main story and I hope to at least briefly mention soon, is that although Aveline was born in the United States, her mother was Colombian-American and her father was German-American.
> 
> But I digress. I hope you have enjoyed this one-shot and there’ll be plenty more added to this collection in the near future and as ‘Behind the Mask’ progresses.


End file.
